


livin’ on a prayer

by luckycharmz



Series: season ten compliant [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 10x11, 5x10 parallel, Coda, Feels, M/M, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:16:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckycharmz/pseuds/luckycharmz
Summary: they're more than half way there, they made it to the fucking finish line
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: season ten compliant [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668349
Comments: 6
Kudos: 141





	livin’ on a prayer

**Author's Note:**

> it only makes sense that gallavich’s song is my favorite song too. the moment i saw the episode i knew i had to write this, so do yourself a favor and play the song as you read. 
> 
> livin on a prayer- bon jovi

Ian tells the soloist to cut the song short, his point has been made and as sweet as the moment is, he doesn’t want to give away any more of it. That can wait for their big day. 

He leans with his elbows on the table as he tightens his hold on Mickey’s hands, “it’s okay for you to want this too, Mick,” he tells him once everyone’s gone back to minding their own business, “I know you wanna piss Terry off and I’m all for it but,” his eyes shift down to Mickey’s ring and thumbs over it, “we deserve this too,” he looks back up at him, doe eyes all sweet and warm. 

It’s like Ian can read his mind, of course he fucking can. He’s seen Mickey stress all day and as cute as it is to see him being a groomzilla, he can always see the real motif. He can see Mickey wants this, he wants it to be perfect for them more than anything else. 

Mickey snakes one hand out, taking a swing of his beer to relax himself, “I do want this, man. Why the fuck shouldn’t we? Haven’t we put up with enough crap to have some normal shit for once?,” if not for the words then the way Mickey’s body sags shows Ian just how much he does want this. 

Ian nods, a toothy grin plastering his face once again. One in which he looks at Mickey in complete awe, he can’t believe he gets to fucking marry him. To comfort him and even serenade him for the rest of their lives. “Let’s do this this,” Ian agrees, “all out. With the _chairs_ and flowers— all that shit,” he grins purposefully.

Mickey snorts, mind going back to his outburst over the mix up of chairs. So fucking what if he did? He asked for the chiavari and he’d be damned if he got some ugly fucking black chairs. “Fuck you, man. The moron said he had ‘em and then said sorry when we got there knowing he was wastin’ my fuckin’ time,” he’s ranting again but this time Ian’s smiling because he knows what Mickey wants and it’ll be okay now. 

“I need you to start using the word _our_ , you asshole. It’s our wedding, our time wasted-- our, our-“

“Our, what, huh?”

“Our everything, Mick.” 

Mickey’s face visibly softens once again, really he hadn’t even noticed what he’d been saying but it warms him completely to see how even the small things affect Ian. 

“Whose the groomzilla now,” he mutters under his breath jokingly, widening his eyes comically. Ian’s leaning in and Mickey’s ready to kiss him but instead gets shoved back by the chest. A shocked look on his face that Ian matches with a head tilt, both challenging and then they erupt into laughter. The call for another round of beers, making eyes at each other and not worrying for what tomorrow holds. 

They pay their tab and head out, Mickey’s planner safely in Ian’s hands now as they walk back home. The night is dark and cold but the stars are out and the usual hustle and bustle of the night isn’t around so they opt to enjoy it. Mickey finds it kinda romantic too but no one needs to fucking know that. 

Ian’s left arm curls around Mickey’s shoulder and Mickey’s around Ian’s waist. Giggling like idiots over nothing as they stumble up the sidewalk.

“She said we gotta _hooold_ on....” Ian whispers lowly into Mickey’s ear before placing an open mouthed kiss their, “to what we _gooooot_ ,” he kisses his temple, “it doesn’t make a difference if we make it orrr....” his voice is low as he pauses both his singing and walking.

Mickey stops abruptly, turning his head to look up at Ian and the smile that splits his lips is because of Ian’s own infectious one. “ _Nooot_ ,” he mumbles anyways.

“We got each other...”

“And that’s a lot for love,”

“We’ll give it a shot!” 

“Whooooaaaa,” they both sing this time as they stumble into step once again, “we’re half way thhheeerrre,” arms instinctively tightening and voices getting louder. 

“Whoooa oh!” Ian yells, a grin on his face as he throws a fist into the air. 

“Livvin’ on a prayer!” Mickey shouts and his voice sloppy but it’s exuding with happiness and he doesn’t fucking care.

Ian moves behind Mickey, wrapping his arms around his neck before jumping, Mickey’s arms going around his knees, “take my hand, we’ll make it I swwwweearr,” it’s a silent promise between them that he shouts into the world. 

“Oooh!” Mickey throws his head back, finally letting completely loose as his smile reached his eyes, “livin’ on a-“ Mickey pauses when he no longer sees Ian beside him or feeling him on him so he turns. Both still mirrors their beautiful and carefree expressions as they gaze at each other. 

Ian limps forward the few steps and envelops Mickey’s lips, hands wrapping around his face. It’s like Mickey’s face was made for Ian’s hands to fit in perfectly, safely and hoping to protect him from all bad things. Both of them are smiling into the kiss as teeth clash ever so softly, breathy moans and heavy groans eliciting as they pull each other impossibly closer all while pulling each other apart. 

They separate slowly, tongues darting out for one last taste and eyes still trained on lips. Lips that are now wet and swollen, bodies warm and pooling with desire. 

“Remember-“ 

“Yeah. Course I fucking do, man,” Mickey’s sighs, his hands moving up to grip the collar of Ian’s denim jacket. Eyes looking up into Ian’s jaded ones that are now glassy. 

The special thing about them is that one look or word is enough to make the other understand. They’ve always understood each other like no one else and when Ian asks if he _remembers_ , he’s asking if he remembers a time similar to this one. Stumbling home, arm in arm and singing like nothing matters. Until shit hit the fan and their first date never happened. 

But Mickey already knows, he knows the pain it causes the both of them to think of certain times even now. So he doesn’t meet him to continue because _of course he fucking remembers_. Only now, none of that matters because they made it. 

They’re here, in the middle of the street singing like nothing else matters and it fucking doesn’t. No weed or booze will ever cloud that truth, no homophobic piece of shit lame excuse for a dad will scare them and fear- _fear_ ain’t got nothin’ on ‘em. 

They both lean forward, their silence speaking louder than any amount of words ever will as they embrace one another. Letting themselves fall pliant in each other’s hold, faces nuzzling into necks and declarations of love being whispered. 

Together, warm and safe, fuck _half way there_ ; they made it to the finish line.

**Author's Note:**

> our boys are getting married in three hours!!!!! im so fucking excited !!!
> 
> also, comment and leave kudos ❣️


End file.
